


Lost

by INeedMoreHadesBeforeISwoon



Series: Night's Darkness [9]
Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Betrayal, F/M, Falling In Love, Insanity, Justice, Loss of Control, M/M, Making things right, Panic, Planning a Rescue, Protective Siblings, Protectiveness, Psychological Trauma, Self-Harm, Separation Anxiety, Strange-form Intimacy, righteous anger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:01:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22473784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INeedMoreHadesBeforeISwoon/pseuds/INeedMoreHadesBeforeISwoon
Summary: Hades and Praxidike are at dreadful odds over what was done within the interdimensional prison that binds Night and Darkness.What has been Lost may never be found again; but perhaps, what is Lost does not need to stay Lost....
Relationships: Erebus/Nyx (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus), Hermes/Thanatos (Lore Olympus)
Series: Night's Darkness [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607764
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I beg you listen. Get. Tissues. Now. Right. Now. Do not pass go, do not collect your fic without TISSUES, DAMMIT! And water, you're gonna be losing liquids with this. 
> 
> Warnings: Please pay attention to these, and the tags above. 
> 
> Themes of manipulation, righteous anger, and ethics in dire straits abound within.  
> Self-harm is a major component here; please be careful.  
> Themes of PTSD, dissociative-type mental breaks, and pure unadulterated fear and anxiety are explored here, deeply.  
> Contemplation of the cost of actions, including contemplation of potential death in vengeance/penance, are also touched upon.  
> Survivor's guilt, and inherited guilt (to a certain extent).  
> And finally, we have some Thanames softness to ease us into the next stage of this Night's Darkness....
> 
> Press on, and take care of yourselves, dear ones....
> 
> We'll find the light....

Praxidike knew it was most likely pointless.

She attempted to summon the portal anyway.

The wall of the coat closet in her office remained a wall, no gateway forthcoming.

She’d known he’d locked it, and though her power _apparently_ granted her control over the Chains of Soulfire, forged and bound from the depths of Tartarus itself:

 _Apparently_ that wasn’t good enough to open a portal to an interdimensional prison where a poor woman was left battered and burnt, alone, in the dark, without her love there to anchor her to reality and slow what was surely fated to be an utter freefall into madness after that _fucking display!_

She slammed her fist into the wall, a blast of power cracking the wood and stone and shuddering the tower.

Persephone held her hands to her mouth, shocked and terrified at how far past control she felt….

How it felt like Praxidike and her own mind were far too separate now….

She, Persephone, only wanted to go to her husband and reassure herself that the deadly light in his eyes _had_ faded, that the ice around his heart was only girlish imaginings, that he hadn’t truly intended to keep the two broken things locked down forever.

She, Praxidike, could only hear the fizzle of power as the locks he’d bound around the gateway absorbed her own, their own, attempts to open it again….

And Praxidike would not stand for such outrageous handling of her own destined Justice….

* * *

Hades downed another scotch, refusing to look in the mirror over the sideboard. The scent of cheese and pita from yesterday’s lunch lingered still, and he poured another glass, swirling it beneath his nose to drown that reminder, too.

He stared at the bident, upright and ready beside his desk.

He gritted his teeth and growled as the glass shattered in his hand.

Flinging the dripping shards away, he stared at the ichor mixing with the amber-shining alcohol. It burned, but it wasn’t enough….

How could it ever be enough…?

….

He’d become what he hated most after all….

* * *

Persephone dabbed at the orangey crème under her eyes, staring in the mirror with pure intent.

No one could know how sleepless her night had been.

The Queen of the Underworld must appear capable, before everything dissolved into chaos….

No one could know she’d spent her first night alone, refusing even the dogs she loved so dearly as she wrestled with her Justice….

No one could know.

Except the one who had caused this pain and lost her trust….

Hence, the bathroom door open behind her, and steel-bound heels clicking their way down the bare hallway floor.

His eyes were as rough as hers, though otherwise his appearance was impeccable in the mirror’s imagery.

The pain in those reflected reddened eyes had her smiling in grim satisfaction….

_You see now…? Your actions have consequences you did not think to see…._

He swallowed and left her to her makeup in the guest bath, a soft whistle calling the cowering pack to the kitchen for their breakfasts.

* * *

She arrived in the parking garage, and he groaned to see her glare directed deadly-precise at him where he stood at the bumper of his Aston. He’d left the Caddy keys out on the counter beside the bowl, but she’d obviously ignored them in favor of the Cobra.

He gulped as she slammed the door with her hip, her black pantsuit one he’d admired before, and feared like hell now….

She blew right past him without a word, the elevator dinging open and pinging shut before he took a single step from his post by the bumper.

_Make it right._

He pressed the call button, and long moments of dread later, the doors dinged wide.

He reached the lobby, and took the stairs to Level 99.

_Make it right…._

_Make it right…._

_Make it right…._

His thighs burned, his back ached, but he wouldn’t ignore the call any longer.

_Make it right, son…._

_A King always makes right his mistakes, at the first opportunity…._

His mother’s voice had flayed him to ribbons with guilt the entire night.

He called in the bident and unbound the gateway.

_Make it right, my boy…._

He stepped through the portal, his suit jacket billowing open in the cold wind of the deeps beneath even Tartarus.

_Make it right, or be like him…._

* * *

She danced across the stone, the wind singing through her wings, the sun bright on her shoulders.

She giggled at the sizzling sound of ice turning to steam on the rocks.

She spun to a stop, her left-most fingers brushing over the soft band of flax-thread and love-song on her right arm, her eyes fluttering open as a loud metal shield crashed somewhere nearby.

She stared out over a too-close horizon, blood-bright-wine-soft waters crashing against a wall that shaped that horizon somehow vertical.

A voice, not hers, and not the one she thought most handsome, dark and beautiful as sex in the night of a stardust forest….

A voice that burned her throat and wings, and she fell to the stone, her knees bruising again, her wings spread wide, limp as the muscles refused her wishes.

The voice spoke again, but the roaring in her ears kept her from understanding….

All she knew was it was behind her, that terrible voice, and she’d been a good girl, the best girl, good beyond anything she could have ever thought to be….

“I’m a good girl, I’ve been good, I was just dancing, it’s such a pretty day, not escaping, it’s so pretty here, I don’t want to leave….”

She hummed, telling the voice that had finally stopped talking behind the roaring in her ears that she was happy here, see, and she’d be good forever….

And one day, the scary voice would be soft again, and then the beautiful soft-dark-love-song voice would come back to her….

She nibbled on her nails again, one, and then another, and another, humming all the while.

They tasted salty today, her nails did, salty and bitter, but she was a good girl, and it didn’t matter….

She hummed, her wings shivering behind her; she hummed into the darkness as her eyes drifted closed….

* * *

Hades stared at her, at what he’d done to her, and he didn’t know how to make this right….

Nothing would work, except to release them.

But if he did, would she survive?

Would he, himself, survive releasing Erebus, at least long enough to unmake the walls that bound this prison-place…?

He wasn’t sure, and his own self-preservation kept the base of the bident’s shaft on the stone at his feet, his hands curling around it, twisting, wringing the unyielding metal with his inner twisting pain.

The portal fizzled behind him, and his wife barreled out, crashing into his back. He staggered forward, refusing to turn, only barely managing to keep his feet.

A tiny hand released the back of his belt, and he heard a softly muttered, “Sorry.”

He shook his head, denying that she needed to apologize, and he kept his eyes on Nyx as Persephone, Praxidike, Justice moved up beside him.

“She’s broken, sweetness, and I did that to her…. What do I do now…?”

“You will release Erebus, but first, we need Nyx to be ready to hold him again.”

“You’re not hearing me, Persep-” He cut himself off as blazing red eyes locked him in place, freezing his retort in his lungs.

“I hear you just fine. She’s broken. Body. Mind. Both. But he’ll kill us if we just let him loose without having a way to turn his focus to her first. She’s alive enough for that. Sane enough. So, shut up and stay here and I’ll go get her attention so she can get his. And maybe we can all four survive this….”

Hades knew better than to argue as Praxidike, Dread among Queens, flew through the air like a comet, drifting to a landing soft as petals on Nyx’s right side.

He’d screwed up royally, but his Queen would help him make it right.

He’d pay every price to make this right….

He’d obey to make this right….

* * *

Nyx’s fingernails were bloody, ragged and torn, and Persephone wrapped her fingers around her bony wrist to pull Nyx’s bleeding hand away from those sharp teeth. Nyx’s head turned, jaw clenched and eyes fever-bright, following her hand’s progress until her eyes met Persephone’s.

Praxidike smiled with Persephone’s gentle features, but their voice was iron and blood to build a bridge from heart to mind and body to soul….

Nyx would not be lost for long….

* * *

_Scary…._

_But sweet…._

_Iron-flower…._

“Nyx, you hear me, yeah?”

“Mmmmhmmmm, I’m a good girl, gonna be a good girl….”

“You are, very good. We’re gonna bring your Erebus back to you, you’ve been so good.”

She smiled, eager to show how good she could be, ready to promise, anything for Praxidike to keep smiling like that.

“I’ll keep being good, and he’ll be good, too! I promise, no snarling….” She dropped her voice to a whisper, needing Praxidike to see, to understand just how good they’d be. “No snarling, not a bit, ‘cause good girls don’t snarl. Good girls are quiet, good girls behave. We’ll behave. No snarling….”

Praxidike gulped, and Nyx mimicked her, wondering what the iron-flower Justice was nibbling on.

“That’s good, Nyx. You ready? Gonna give him a hug when he gets back here?”

“Mmmmhmmm, big hug! No escaping, nope, gonna be good, we’ll be so good, you’ll see!”

She wondered why there was fear behind her heart. They’d be good, they were always so good, and Praxidike had promised, they’d be leaving soon. They just had to be good, just for a little while. No snarling. Stay here. Stay quiet. Be good.

Don’t touch the walls….

She nodded, decided now, and put on a determined face so Praxidike knew she was ready.

Justice swallowed again, but there still wasn’t anything to eat, so what was that about…?

Didn’t matter. Praxidike gave her back her wrist, and she brought her fingers back to her mouth, salty-bitter treat still there for her to taste; the air got cold, and Nyx shivered, delight spiraling around her heart as the box flew open and her love-song came crashing to the stone behind her.

A growl exploded through the air behind and above her, and she screamed….

* * *

**_Hurt_ **

**_Hurting her_ **

**_My fault_ **

**_All my fault_ **

**_The box_ **

**_The walls_ **

**_The chains_ **

**_The hurt_ **

**_Mine_ **

**_Should have been mine_ **

**_Me_ **

**_Hurt me instead_ **

**_Let her go_ **

**_We need to get out_ **

**_Won’t survive_ **

**_Too long_ **

**_Broken already_ **

**_Won’t survive_ **

**_Too long_ **

**_Within the walls_ **

**_So many walls_ **

**_Have to get out_ **

****

****

**_Door!_ **

He crashed to the stone, bound again, larger than god-sized but definitely not Titan-massive. He put his night-song at his back, needing to protect her, the blue murdering thing just there, angling his weapon for the kill.

He snarled, growled, roared in defiance, and a piercing shriek he’d never heard before tore through his heart before his night-song came pelting around his knees, weeping, sobbing near hysterically up at him.

He shrank, pulling her into his arms and trying to turn away, to put himself between her and their tormentors, but she thrashed, beating the heels of her hands against his chest, her head twisting back and forth violently on her trembling neck.

It took a few moments before her wrenching sobs and continued shrieks of unadulterated panic formed words he could understand.

“ _No snarling, no snarling, we promised, we’ll be good, we’re being good, see, no snarling stop it stop it stop it!!!”_

She collapsed, gasping for air, her knees limp beneath her. He wrapped her against him, angling her to avoid touching her wings as he sank to the stone, pulling her into the cradle of his lap and rocking back and forth. He kissed her temple, then the brow over her right eyes, and murmured to her with lips and mind, trying to ease her fear with words and promises he wasn’t sure he could keep.

“I hear you, Nyx. No more snarling. I’m sorry, yes, we’ll be good. So good. No snarling, none. We’ll be good….”

He rocked his night-song, terrified of everything, raging at everything but unable to act on his pain….

She needed him to be good, and he would, even if it cost them their lives….

* * *

Persephone sobbed into her hands as Nyx collapsed, as Erebus rocked the sobbing Titan of Night in his lap.

It was all going wrong….

Praxidike gave them time, and then she went closer, stopping halfway between her anxious-terrified husband and the blood-glaring Titan seated on the stone before them.

If eyes were windows to souls, Erebus was beyond the point of hate now….

He would kill them where they stood for what they’d done to Nyx, what they hadn’t done for him and his winged consort; he would kill them, and he would smile over the ashes….

She knew now that he’d made the right choice when he stayed far from the Titanomachy.

Persephone wondered how she and Hades were still alive to witness this primal being’s fury in full and near-loosed wrath.

Praxidike knew it was only the love of the broken woman he held that kept him bound in the only way that mattered.

This, Justice could use.

* * *

**_Just try it, little iron-flower._ **

**_Far too curious, you are…._ **

**_Tread lightly, or the hornets will find you on their ground…._ **

“Erebus, I healed her neck before. I’m sorry I didn’t get to her wings. I can tend them now, if you’ll let me. I can heal them fully, not just from yesterday. Please. Can I do this for her…?”

**_…. It can’t be that simple…._ **

**_Where’s the trick…?_ **

**_No matter._ **

**_I’ll tear her apart if she hurts you again, Night-song._ **

**_No one will hurt you again…._ **

He nodded, just the once, and held his breath as Praxidike stretched her hands toward them from where she knelt on the stone.

Light, far too bright, but he wouldn’t look away, needed to see, to protect, can’t defend if eyes can’t see….

He felt Nyx tremble more, but though she whimpered, he shared the feeling of the magic healing her body, restoring her wings, and he bound his instincts to let it continue.

He didn’t take his eyes from Praxidike’s glowing form until the pink thing collapsed to the stone; then, only then, did he look down past his night-song’s tangled hair, taking in every line and curve of her wings.

Full.

Silver-dusted darkness.

Sweeping long and sighing gently with every motion of her chest.

Whole….

He snapped his eyes back to the blue betrayer and struggled to bind the growl behind his teeth before it could escape. The killing-King was lifting his limp-armed Queen to her feet, the bident pointed toward the ceiling.

The blue lips parted, an explanation, apology, excuse, _whatever_ forming in his mouth.

Erebus cut him off without a chance.

“Get. Out.”

Nyx whimpered, and he rocked her a little more swiftly; the blue godling scoffed, and Erebus couldn’t stop himself.

He roared, demanding the younger thing’s obedience by power and need beyond the words.

**_“Get out!”_ **

Nyx shrieked, sobbing anew, and Erebus begged forgiveness with soft murmurs to her tangled hair, as their captors called in a portal and left them alone in their prison.

Within the walls, he held her, and racked his brain for a way to help her from the fear-torn landscape the beautiful dark-strange jungle of her mind had become….

* * *

_No, no snarling, we promised, I promised, we have to be good…._

Power behind her back, her somehow heavy back, and she turned her face into her consort’s chest, his heartbeat pounding beneath her lips as she panted and sobbed and ran screaming in her mind.

She had no idea how long the fear tore her apart, but eventually it faded, it always faded, always, and she sniffled hard, sucking mucous past her throat as she looked up into his sunset-dark eyes.

He grimaced at her, and she giggled, and then he smiled.

Sad.

But he smiled.

Her smile, the sweet one from every beloved shadow-blossom’s presentation, every soft seduction, every tender caress when his cock was locked inside her body and he was on the verge of unconsciousness….

Her smile, just for her, even though his eyes were worried….

“Darkness, naughty darkness, snarling when I told him not to….”

Her smile shifted on his face; now it was his “humor her” smile, and she giggled as he cocked an eyebrow high.

“Forgive me, there were no words, and I must admit, the snarling did achieve the purpose….”

She brought her hands up, stroking down from his collarbones, her palms trailing over the blushed-out spots where she’d hit him before.

“Naughty night-song, hitting sweet darkness….”

His eyes snapped from hers to her fingers, and he caught her wrists in his hands. She tried to snatch away, twisting, but he held her, refusing to release her.

Tears of starlight fell from his eyes, and he tilted her hands to kiss the hollow of each of her palms.

She looked away, ashamed, as he let go one wrist and used both hands then to tilt her still-captured one, kissing her broken-torn-bitten pinky nail and the skin all around it, hundreds of tiny kisses overlapping her destroyed fingertips.

His tears were cool on her skin and her lap where they dripped down and down, but her own burned her cheeks as he mourned the loss of her beautiful claws.

She realized sometime around the third fingertip’s forgiveness that her fingers had all been burning, but the ones he’d kissed so thoroughly were blissfully numb now, cold from his power sealing the raw skin behind shields and giving her relief from the pain.

She finally looked back him when he got to the second finger on her other hand. She watched him as he did what he could for her ruined fingertips, her battered and destroyed nails, his eyes never leaving hers the entire time he worked over the final one.

She pulled his face to hers with her cold-numbed fingers on his cheeks, and she kissed him, thanked him, loved him through the pain….

* * *

Her nails had never been so bad, not since they’d been together, not since she’d been rejected over and over by the other Titans so very long ago.

He’d made sure of that, been very careful to help her find other ways of dealing with stress and strain than biting her fingertips raw between her shining fangs.

That more than anything coiling in terror behind her eyes told him how far the day before had pushed her….

He let her kiss him, and he held the ripping pain behind his heart at bay, needing to see her sleeping soundly before he could give in, lose that last control….

He needed to take care of her; that was all that mattered.

She finally pulled away, mild anger in her eyes. He braced for whatever this was, knowing it would hurt, far too much….

“Erebus, weeks, it’s been weeks, and you haven’t even touched my armband! I’m wearing it just for you!”

He looked at her right arm, his fingers coming up to brush along her skin.

“Sorry, night-song mine. I guess I had other things on my mind.”

She smirked, shrugging her shoulders so his fingers slipped over her supple skin. “Yeah, well…. I forgive you…!”

He smiled, pulling her to him, holding her like a child crosswise on his lap and rocking some more. She tried to stifle a yawn, chuckled with him as he started humming to drown her mild protests, and a few minutes later she was asleep.

He choked on the sobs then, staring at the bare skin of her right arm smushed against his chest.

The band hadn’t been there since they’d been locked within the walls, burned away by the chains that bound her as the bait for the trap laid for him….

He choked on the sobs, praying to nothing and everything that she could come back from this madness, this broken lost-ness that had stolen his night-song into darkness beyond even his ken….

Somewhere in the long hours, he slept too, curled over her bent body, her wings stretched out in supple lines of starlight and shadow on the stone….

* * *

Thanatos woke from a deep sleep as his father’s power rocked through the realms. Hermes beside him on the crimson god’s pillow-nested bed shifted in his sleep, sheets doing far too little to conceal curvy ass-cheeks and narrow-nipping waist.

A lean arm wrapped his own waist; Hermes shuffled closer without waking up, and Thanatos shifted his own arm under Hermes’ messy head of fire-bright locks, his fingers splaying over the younger god’s spine.

Thanatos tried to ignore the pain in the wordless cry, but he knew he was far too sensitized after their visit yesterday.

His father was hurting, badly, emotionally torn apart and on the edge of a mental oblivion too dark to contemplate.

He reached for his phone on the bedside table, keeping it angled so the screen’s light shone above him on the headboard but he could still make out the icons and buttons as he navigated to his messaging app.

_We need to meet up tomorrow morning, 830. Something’s up with Dad._

**_Agreed. We’ll get Hemera. Bruce’s?_ **

_Got it. Thanks, Moirai._

**_We got you, baby bro. Enjoy the red one; he’s cute…._ **

_Shuddup, you perverts…._

He muted the conversation and slipped the black-screened phone to the table again.

It thunked a little, though, and Hermes snorted as he woke to the sound.

“ _Whazzat, huh, ain’t mornin’, do it?!_ ”

Thanatos bellowed with laughter, fighting the urge to cry as he realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed like that. He kissed Hermes between his half-crossed eyes, chuckling, his hand gently pressing on the mussy head of red-rose hair, forcing Hermes to relax again.

“Nothing, it’s not morning, sorry. Go back to sleep….”

“You gotsit, Angel….”

Thanatos sighed with Hermes, the cherry-bright god nearly asleep again already; but Than knew he wouldn’t sleep anytime soon, not with that name echoing in his heart for the first time.

_Angel…._

_I’ll be your Angel, sure…._

_Just don’t leave me, please…._

_Don’t leave me…._

He shifted, wrapping his body around Hermes, laying a thickly-fluffed up wing over the both of them, covering nearly the whole bed in possessive claim.

_I can find myself with you, again, I know I can._

_Don’t leave me, Hermes…._

_I’m lost, but you’re helping me find me, the me I lost when the world went to hell…._

He raked his nose back and forth in Hermes’ thick wavy hair, smelling his sandalwood cologne and the hint of sex left from earlier.

_I need you, Hermes…._

_I think I’m falling in love with you…._

He fell asleep with the word bouncing between his heart and the stars so far above the Olympian nightscape:

_Love._

_Love._

_Love…._

**Author's Note:**

> We're nearly there. I'll hold my peace for now, and remain in the deeps whilst you all continue to curse my name - cause I'm pretty sure that's happening, how could it not...?
> 
> Anyway.
> 
> Until next time, dearest ones....
> 
> Until next time....


End file.
